Our Story Isn't Over Yet
by VELVA-turniphead
Summary: Season five AU. Two character's who haven't finished their story. Find out what's happened to them since the Oceanic Six left and when they return.
1. Waking Up to a New Day

**So, this is my first try at Lost fan-fiction. It wouldn't get out of my head, so here it is! It's AU as of now, but as it takes place season five, it could be true to the story! (Which is very, very unlikely.)  
Basically just what I would like to happen from this point on in Lost.**

**Spoilers up to: The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham (throughout the story)**

**Lost doesn't belong to me! If it did... Things would be extremely different. Probably a lot less interesting, though!**

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She was woken by the sunlight streaming through her cream-colored curtains. These were the curtains used to merely keep privacy; they weren't completely see-through, but they weren't completely opaque. It was nearing seven o'clock, so she carefully slid out of bed as to not wake her husband. He would be waking for his first day of work soon anyway.

Her pajamas made quiet noises as she walked to her closet. She picked a simple sundress to wear; sky-blue with a small flower design at the hem. She slipped it on and checked herself in the mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

Deeming herself acceptable to be seen, she left the room quietly and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. She put the tea on and started making eggs and toast for breakfast, then went into the family room and looked at the picture on the mantle. It was a picture of herself with her husband, taken just over a year ago. The photo wasn't a very good one, but it was one of the few she had.

It had been two and a half years since everything had happened. She thought she would be forever alone; but then he came back to her. They still didn't quite know how it happened, but it did, and that was all that mattered. They had moved into their house shortly after. They had to blend in, had to make themselves seem normal.

They were far from normal. The people around them could not discover this though.

There was a knock on the back door and she stood still, waiting for her visitor to identify themselves; there had been many who tried to speak to them in the year they had been in the house, alone. Never leaving.

It was a man, a familiar voice. One she welcomed warmly. Richard Alpert, probably there to discuss the day's events; to give more warning on the reactions they would receive from the new people in the neighborhood.

"It's me. Open the door, please. I don't want to be seen."

"I'm sorry Richard. Better safe than sorry," she said as she opened the door for him.

She quickly shut the door when he walked passed her, not wanting anyone to see him or her.

"Good morning, Claire."

"Good morning to you too, Richard," she said with a smile. Her smile was nervous, and her eyes showed that she was not really looking forward to the day ahead of her. She had never been very confident in herself.

"You look lovely, Claire. But please, don't be so worried about today. Everything will be fine, I promise. They will just be…Surprised."

He was trying to help her. Trying to ease her nerves. But her nerves had been escalating for the past year, since everyone arrived. But she tried anyway. "Thank you. I'm trying to not be so nervous, but as I'm sure you know it's difficult." She told him, her thick Australian accent paired with her quick words making her hard to understand.

"It's fine. Everything will be fine," he was about to continue but was interrupted by the alarm clock going off from down the hall, signaling her husband's awaking.

Claire smiled. If they could get this first day to go at least a little smoothly, everything would work out alright. She heard her husband turn off the alarm and getting up, ready for the first day of work in a year.

"How is he handling everything? I'd assume he's not as nervous as you are."

"He's excited. A complete nutcase, I'd say," she told Richard. It really was amazing how excited her husband was; he would be getting ten times as strong a reaction as her. But that didn't seem to matter to him.

He was always cheery. He hardly ever left his gleeful mindset, and even when he did there was something so completely real, so… Well, Claire didn't know what it was. It just was how he was, if that made any sense.

"The tea is ready, Claire," Richard said, taking Claire out of her thoughts of her husband. She smiled, slightly embarrassed, and went to get the tea.

"Would you like any? How about some eggs?" she asked him. He nodded and thanked her, taking a seat at the table. "Are you here to discuss the day? You hardly ever show up in the morning," she finally got to a question that had been in the back of her mind since he arrived.

"Yes, I have. I thought it would be good to go over things, once more. To make sure you'd both be prepared." He left it at that, waiting for her husband to join the conversation.

He walked down the hall, dressed in his uniform, a tired smile on his face. He looked directly at his wife; she had turned around to bring Richard his tea. She smiled back and quickly brought the tea to where Richard stood.

"'Morning," he said, and walked over to his wife. He kissed her swiftly and softly on the lips.

"Good Morning, Charlie."

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**Feedback would be great. I want to hear what people think! I don't really know where this story will go... Maybe a little of the backstory to what's going on, but aside from that it's whatever pops into my head!**

**Characters: Charlie, Claire, Richard Alpert (more will be added as the story goes on!)  
Ships: C/C (maybe more later on. There aren't many others that I'm interested in, though!)**

**The story will stay within the T rating, and I'll keep the action and sexual stuff to what we would see in the show.**


	2. Chapter Two

**Hello! Chapter two is finally here. Sorry, I've been having a busy week. Now there may be spoilers up until "LaFleur" because well, that episode was awesome. And I love Sawyer.  
Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine. At all. Seriously. If it was, well, it would be bad. Not very popular. Probably concelled by now.  
Onto the story!  
**

* * *

Richard, Charlie, and Claire sat at the small table in Charlie and Claire's kitchen eating eggs and toast, waiting for the time to come for Richard to inform them of whatever he needed to inform them of.

Claire was thinking. She knew that Richard would take as long as he needed, that he would not tell them until he felt it was time to tell them. So, she sat there, occasionally taking a bite of her breakfast, thinking about the past year.

It had been difficult, being cooped up in the little house. Richard sometimes came and visited at night, but that was infrequent so he would not be seen by their neighbors. Besides them, the Chang's had come over with their new born baby a few times, but their visits were short.

In this house, they only had each other. They could not leave in fear of someone seeing them before it was time to be seen. There had been a few close-calls, where Claire would have to run over and close the shades or Charlie would have to bolt lock the door.

But today those things would change. There would be no more hiding, no more running from the door. From today on, they would have to face what they had been avoiding.

The thought of facing these things terrified Claire. She could put up with being locked in a little house with Charlie for a year or more. Facing problems was something she would never be good with. She was too passive, or too aggressive. She had never been assertive; there were only the extremes. She would have trouble with this.

Claire knew Charlie worried about her. He was contently eating his breakfast next to her. He sat close, trying to tell her through his motions everything would be okay. He knew her well enough to tell she wasn't completely comfortable with the task at hand. Even though she knew it was what had to happen; the Island demanded it.

Richard looked up at the clock, seeing it was 7:30. It was time.

"I came here for a short conversation with you two," he told them. They immediately put down their silverware and ignored their half-eaten meals in order to pay him full attention. "I have organized things so that it will be slow. Hopefully, only one or two people will see either of you at a time. This was the reaction won't be so forceful. I hope this will make your day easier," he continued, looking at Charlie, who just smiled knowingly. They both knew that it was easier to be said.

Claire bit her lip. She didn't like it. No matter who saw them first, it would still be hard. "Richard…" she started, but stopped uncertainly. "I'm worried. What if one of them doesn't believe it? What if they, I don't know, try to hurt Charlie?"

"Claire, don't worry. No one will hurt Charlie, I promise you," Richard told her. It was more than a promise; it was a guarantee. _Of course_, Claire thought, _he'll have someone watching us. At least I will know that he won't be dead by lunch._

Charlie took her hand comfortingly. "Don't worry, luv. Nothing will happen to me, I'll be fine."

"I know. I'm just worried."

"Don't be. I'll be fine. Promise."

* * *

Richard didn't say much after that. He held the meeting just to assure them nothing bad would happen. He quickly reminded them of job situations, just so they would be informed, and took his leave.

Charlie was the head of the literature and musical arts department on the island. He worked mostly with children and teenagers who needed hobbies when their parents were at work. That was why he was allowed to take off for a year; the circumstances of their hiding made it easy to say he couldn't be around that many children and be happy.

He left at eight o'clock sharp, kissing Claire softly when she walked him to their door. She stood on the porch for a few minutes, watching him walk away. She kept looking around, trying to find any of the new people, to see if they had changed in the two years she hadn't seen them. But she saw none of them, thankfully. The only people near were her immediate neighbors, who were happy to see her. They waved to her, called out their happiness to see her. She smiled and waved back, asking how they had been. She didn't really care how they were. She was too worried about Charlie to care about anyone.

She went back into the house and started cleaning. She was sure they would have visitors that night. She thought back to the past two years; they had gone by so fast…

* * *

She had followed him, further into the jungle. She didn't have anything with her except the clothes on her back and the baby in her arms.

Even that she wouldn't have for long.

Knowing that, she continued on with him. He promised her everything would be fine, that it was what had to happen. She accepted it. She had a new faith in the Island, after all. She should have died when her house exploded. But she didn't; somehow, Sawyer was able to reach her in time. And through all of that, her baby remained safely in the care of Hurley, dear Hurley.

Claire thought about Hurley. He had been through a lot, as well. Charlie's death affected him nearly as much as it had affected her. Charlie was his best friend as he had been Claire's love. Life would be very difficult for Hurley, she was sure. She felt so bad for him.

Charlie…What would she do without him? She wouldn't cry; she had to be strong, for those around her, and for her son, at the very least. She had hoped, if they ever got off the island that they would be together. That he would be Aaron's father. But now that was impossible.

She had given up hope. And the Island showed her that she was still needed, still useful; if she wasn't, she would have certainly died.

"Leave him her, Claire," her father told her. She still didn't know his name. Maybe she never would. He was dead, he already told her that. But he could move, breathe, touch, interact; she knew she wasn't crazy. It was the Island. So she said her goodbyes to her son, the one thing she had left in this world.

She almost cried. But she had to keep it in. She promised him he would be okay, and left him in the jungle.

"He'll be fine, Claire. Don't worry. This is what the Island wants, for your son to grow and be away for a little while. He'll be where he's supposed to be, and he'll come back if that's what is meant to happen."

Claire didn't say anything. She couldn't. So she just nodded and continued on, only a few steps behind her father. She kept her mind focused on the future: being with her father on the Island, waiting for it to be her time to do something.

"We're here, Claire."

* * *

She was sitting on her front porch, chatting with Ruth, a woman living a few houses down. Ruth was older than Claire, almost thirty. Today was her day off from work; she was an exploration recruit. She knew what subjects not to go to with Claire, and asked things like how Charlie was, and if Claire was thinking of getting a job anytime soon.

Claire answered all her questions honestly and politely. She was formal with this woman, as she was with nearly everyone that lived there. She didn't fit in with the mindset of these people, and she didn't care to. She would never fit in with them.

She saw someone in the corner of her eye. It caused several things: she dropped her cup of tea, which shattered on her porch; she took a sharp intake of breath, bit her lip, and thoroughly freaked out poor Ruth. But it didn't matter. She would be faced with the first of many issues, and she wasn't near ready.

* * *

It was a cabin. A small, dark, and all-around creepy cabin. Claire had never been so unenthusiastic about anything in her life. She had to just suck it up, and deal with it, though. Her father promised her it would be fine. She would get food, and she would be safe. He warned her that they might get some visitors, though. She just accepted it. There was nothing she could do at this point.

And so, she took her seat next to a small table. Her father told her it was Jacob's Cabin, whoever Jacob was. Claire didn't care; she would do what she was instructed to do, and she wouldn't question the Island's decisions.

She was there not long before they had their first visitor, John Locke. He had been shocked to see her, but she promised she was fine. She even smiled to back up these words. She understood how he had always felt now; he had been the first to accept that everything happened because the Island wanted it to. Now she, too, had accepted that her fate, along with everyone else's, was up to the Island. She wanted him to keep that faith, or else it would bring him nothing but trouble.

Locke left after being told to not let anyone know Claire was there. She heard distantly Hurley and Ben, and suddenly she felt lonely, lonelier than she had since being found by her father. She wanted to run out and just let them know she was okay, and to reassure herself that they were also okay. But she couldn't, so she just listened to what they were saying.

The days went on. She wasn't sure what was going on, nor did she know what day it was, or how much time had passed since she had gotten to the cabin.

As promised, she was brought food everyday; her father was always out and about, and he would return with her food. She wasn't allowed to leave, though, and she spent her days wondering where her son was, what he was doing.

Until one day.

* * *

It was her. Claire just stared, waiting for her to notice her. It didn't take long; two or three excruciating seconds. But it was enough.

Juliet heard the commotion and her head snapped in Claire's direction. He eyes went a bit wide and her lips parted slightly. "Claire?" she barely got out. It was a confused whisper. She had no idea what was going on, after all.

Ruth looked over at Juliet with a slight smile. Claire knew what was coming, she knew Ruth would ask how she knew Juliet. So she responded to Juliet with "I'm sorry, do I know you?" and with a quick look at the clock she turned to Ruth. "Your son will be home soon. Shouldn't you be getting home?" It was quick and polite, and Ruth immediately ignored Juliet recognizing Claire.

"Yes, thank you. I didn't even realize what time it was."

She got up and left after a Good-Bye to Claire and a Have a Nice Day to Juliet. Juliet walked over to Claire, still in disbelief.

"I think you should come inside," Claire said. She had a small, false smile of a stranger meeting someone knew. She picked up the remnants of her tea cup and led the way into the house.

As soon as they were inside, she dropped the bits of glass and bolted the door shut. She would not allow anyone to interrupt this crucial conversation with Juliet.

"I guess it's time for me to tell you."

* * *

**So, I don't really know what I think about this chapter. I like it until the end, which I just wrote in like five minutes because I wanted to just post the damn chapter. It was almost completely finished for the past week and a half, but I needed to end it the way it ended. It just doesn't seem to flow right. Whatever, I'm sick and I've been out all weekend.  
So, reviews would be marvelous, I want to know what people think of it! Do you think I got Claire's character right? How about Richard? And, I'm**** using flashbacks! What do you think about those?**

**Thanks for reading, I'll try to do the next chapter sometime in the next three weeks. It might be longer, because my high school play is in two weeks and we'll be having five hour plus rehearsals until then, so... I'll try!**

**-Velva Turnip-Head**


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